Deadly Games
by Tiger-Lily9711
Summary: Welcome to the 51st Annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor.
1. Reaped

**A/N: Hey guys! I know I have like five stories that I should be working on and before I get yelled at, I'll let you know that I'm working on the next chapter of From The Tower. This is my first story that's not Teen Titans related.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans, so do you think I own the Hunger Games?**

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"Damn it Mason!" My brother Malcolm shouted. "What the hell was that for?!"

Mason - my other brother - laughed. "That was your bath. You do remember what day it is, right?" I stood in doorway, a towel wrapped tightly around my body (I had just taken a shower). Mason filled a bucket to the brim with ice cold water and had doused our formerly sleeping brother with it. I barely held back a smile while Mason - on the other hand - looked like he was gonna start rolling on the floor from how hard he was laughing.

Malcolm grabbed a candle standing on his nightstand and threw it at Mason. The candle hit Mason square in the forehead then splattered on the floor. Malcolm smirked and said, "Oh, I remember what day it is; that's exactly why I was trying to sleep in."

Mason stared at Malcolm with playful spark in his eyes. I decided to intervene, knowing this would turn into a full-out wrestling match if I didn't. "As much as I'd love to stand here and watch you guys go at it, but the Reaping starts in twenty minutes and me and you -" I nod towards Malcolm -"aren't even dressed."

Using one hand to keep my towel from falling, I punched Mason in the chest with the other. "Since your already dressed, can you run down to the sweets' shop and get a bag of rice krispies, please?"

"You and your sweet tooth." Malcolm rolled his eyes and smiled. "Would you do me a favor and get the hell out of my room, please?"

I rolled my eyes. "You act like it's such a big deal. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

"That was when we were babies, sisya," Mason said, placing a hand on the small of my back, guiding me out of the room. "C'mon, you need to get dressed too. I'll meet you guys at the sweets' shop."

"Alrighty. See ya there." I slipped into my room and closed the door. Seeing the dress I had set out on my bed before I taken my bath, I groaned loudly.

Reaping Day is a celebration... or it's supposed to be anyway. I prefer to think of it as 'Stock Picking Day' 'cause that's exactly what it is. Every year, on this day, one boy and one girl are picked from every district to compete in the annual Hunger Games - a fight to the death. This year is supposed to be an interesting one, since last year's winner was one of our own tributes. Which just so happened to be the Quarter Quell. People - people in the Capitol, that is - are dying to see if District 12 can win again.

"Happy Hunger Games my ass," I muttered, dropping my towel and grabbing my clothes. "It's never happy." My dress was white, decorated with white and red roses with black leaves. It was sundress of sorts, strapless, and it went down to my ankles. The dress has been handed down from mother to daughter in my family for over hundred years, yet it was still in pristine condition.

I slid that on, then quickly yanked a comb through my hair - it was naturally super curly, so I didn't have to really do anything with it. I was just slipping my fancy shoes on when there was a knock at my door. "It's safe, Mal!"

Malcolm poked his head in. "It's 11:47. Are you ready to go?"

"Yep." I jumped off my bed and joined him in the hall. "Fancy clothes," I commented.

"Thanks." He was wearing black trousers with a navy blue shirt and a black tie. "Shall we go?" He asked, holding his arm out. I hooked my arm around his and we - literally - skipped out the front door.

Mason was waiting outside the sweets' shop with a paper bag in his hand when we skipped up to him. "Look at my little brother and sister, all dressed up," He teased, ruffling my hair.

I swatted his hand away. "We're triplets, Mase," I said, taking the paper bag from him and checking its contents. Stuffed to the brim with rice krispies. I took two out gave them to my brothers.

"Which means we're the same age," Malcolm added, gratefully taking the treat.

Mason simply rolled his eyes. "Let's just go. We're gonna be late."

The walk down to the Town Square was unusually quiet, which was probably because we were too busy emptying the bag of its contents. When we got there, the paper bag was filled with nothing but air, and the registration lines were only two or three people long.

Mason took the bag and shoved it into his pocket. "We'll see you after the Reaping," He muttered, kissing my forehead.

"Yep." I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek before doing the same to Malcolm, who in return ruffled my hair. Malcolm and Mason went to the boys' registration while I went to the girls'. The Peacekeeper takes a blood sample to confirm it's me, then sends me off. I take my place with the other fifteen-year-old girls and wait for the Reaping to start.

12:00 on the dot, Delicia - District 12's Capitol escort - walks out onto the stage. Last year she was sporting a neon green wig and a dress so yellow that it was hard to look at. This year she's wearing a horrible crimson wig and a dress that looks as if it's made entirely of gemstones.

"Hello, District 12!" Her high-pitched voice hurts my ears. "Welcome to the 51st Annual Hunger Games! I fancy everyone is in a better mood than last year, yes?"

The only sound I can hear is a baby crying off in the distance.

"I guess not then." The look on her face as her face as she lets Mayor Strawt take to the microphone is equivalent to that of a bratty four-year-old.

Mayor Strawt does same boring speech as every other year. By the time he's done, I think a few girls standing around me have actually fallen asleep standing up.

Delicia is back to her perky self by the time she takes the mic back. "Let's begin the Reaping. Ladies first," She announces, almost running over to crystal bowl holding the girls' names.

She drops her hand deep into the reaping bowl and draws it back with a slightly creased slip of paper. "Harley Sedric."

I suck in a sharp breath and bite my lip. Harley Sedric. "_That's me,"_ A voice in the back of my head squeaks nervously. Looking at my feet, I slowly made my way to the stage, trying not to start hyperventilating.

Delicia asks for volunteers, but of course, there are none. What girl would willingly to stick their neck out for someone they barely know? I watch Delicia cross the stage to the boys' reaping bowl and quickly yank a slip out. "Elliot Hill."

A boy with crew cut blond hairstyle walked up the stage. I studied him as he took his place beside me. He was a merchant's kid obviously - the blond hair easily gave that away, and looked to be seventeen. Again, she asks for volunteers but receives no answer.

Delicia walks up behind us and forces our hands into the air. "Panem, I give you your District 12 tributes!"

The applause that comes afterwards is forced and only from a few people. I search the crowd for Mason and Malcolm. They're standing side-by-side, frowning at Delicia.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

A squad of Peacekeepers surround us and march us into the Justice Building. I have to hold up the skirt of my dress as I struggle to keep up.

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**A/N: How was that for a Hunger Games fanfic? Delicia and Mayor Strawt are owned by AmethystWren, who's allowing me to borrow a few of her OCs from her story Running, which I highly recommend you read.**


	2. Author's Note! Please Read!

**Hey you guys! I know it's been a long time since I've updated on any of my stories and I'm afraid it's going to be a while longer. Aside from writing a few of my own original stories, I've recently decided that I want to be a country singer/author. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience it is y'all and I have no idea how long I'll be on hiatus, but this is the most important thing to me right now.**

** - Tiger-Lily9711 -**


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